


Lethal Defense

by celtic7irish



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2824895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic7irish/pseuds/celtic7irish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt from AvengerKink:</p><p>Some time after finding out what all Ross did to Bruce, Tony calls in a few favors. Bruce had never thought Tony considered himself to be kidding when he told him Ross would never hurt him again, but he also hadn't imagined Tony would go that far. Or have others do it for him. But Bruce also can't be as sorry that Ross is dead as he would like to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lethal Defense

Bruce settled nervously into a chair around the large table in one of the Helicarrier’s many conference rooms, waiting for the others to arrive.  Fury had been absolutely livid when he’d called them up and demanded their presence, though it didn’t seem like an attack was imminent.  Tony had ordered JARVIS to check, just to be sure, and the AI had assured them that there was nothing significant going on that might require the presence of the Avengers.  So that left them to wonder just what it was that Nick Fury wanted, and the not knowing was not doing anything to help Bruce’s stress levels.

 

Clint and Natasha walked into the room together, nodding at Bruce.  “Any idea what’s up?” Clint asked curiously.

 

Bruce shook his head. “I don’t know.  Fury called the Tower and demanded that Tony and I come here,” he admitted quietly.  “I have no idea what’s going on, and JARVIS couldn’t find out anything, either.”  Clint made a face at that, and Bruce’s lips quirked in a rare display of humor.

 

Natasha frowned as she contemplated that, but eventually gave a casual shrug, seating herself easily in another chair – as far from Bruce as possible, the scientist noted with a pained smile.  For as much as they might have saved the world together, Natasha still didn’t trust him, and with good reason, he supposed, given her disastrous first meeting with Hulk on the Helicarrier.

 

Clint slouched into his own chair, right next to Nat, an arrow dancing between his hands as he stared glumly at the table in front of him.  For the first time, Bruce wondered if maybe living on the Helicarrier wasn’t the best option for the archer.  No doubt his own guilt over the attack was exacerbated by the blame coming from those who had survived Loki’s assault.  Not to mention that Coulson’s death had to be hard on him.

 

He caught Natasha glaring at him, and realized that he’d been staring.  Offering her an apologetic grimace, he went back to nervously staring at his hands, his whole body tense and alert.  He knew that SHIELD had replaced the cage intended for him; Tony had been furious when he’d found out, and only Bruce’s intervention had kept the other man from sending a virus to the Helicarrier that would short out their navigational systems and play the most irritating music at full volume.  Let it never be said that Tony wasn’t a petty man, but at least he was creative about it.

 

Steve was the next one in, his soldier’s march making Bruce tense further, hunching in on himself as if to escape the blond’s notice, even though Steve had been nothing but kind to him.  Bruce’s fear of soldiers was justified, and the vagueness of their purpose here wasn’t making things better.  Still, he tried to relax when Steve smiled at him as he took his seat, offering the man a shy smile in return.  “Captain,” he greeted.

 

Blue eyes crinkled in the corners as Steve shook his head.  “I think you can call me Steve now, Doctor Banner,” he replied.

 

“Only if you’ll call me Bruce,” the physicist returned.  Steve nodded, offering him a pleased smile, which Bruce returned more genuinely, slowly relaxing.  He was pretty sure that if SHIELD wanted him caged or something, they wouldn’t have called in Captain America.  The man’s sense of justice was legendary, as was his loyalty.  And whether Bruce wanted it or not, he was still part of the Avengers, a teammate and under Steve’s protection, for whatever that was worth.

 

Tony was the last one to stroll in, his stride carefully casual as he glanced at the other people in the room before moving unerringly over towards Bruce, settling himself in the chair next to him and ignoring the others as he smiled at Bruce.  “What’s up, Big Guy?” he asked warmly.

 

Bruce rolled his eyes.  “Nothing new in the forty-five minutes since you saw me last,” he pointed out pragmatically.  After the Battle of New York, Tony had insisted that Bruce come live with him, had promised him not only Candy Land in the form of ten floors of R & D, but also protection from the army that had been hunting him, and from SHIELD if necessary.

 

Tony had actually arrived on the Helicarrier with Bruce, but had veered off after making sure that Bruce was settled.  Bruce had no idea what he was doing, but knowing Tony, it was probably something that would annoy Nick Fury.

 

The CEO smiled at him, his dark eyes warm.  “Good,” he declared, and his tone was sincere; he genuinely meant what he said.  Bruce shook his head.  Only Tony would be happy to hear that nobody had disturbed Bruce while they’d been separated.  Tony’s grin subsided into a smirk as he settled himself, kicking his feet up onto the table.  “So…how long’s old One-Eye going to make us wait?” he asked nonchalantly.  Bruce knew better; the man was as nervous about this as Bruce was.

 

“Mr. Stark,” Steve said repressively, and Tony rolled his eyes.

 

“Oh, come off it, Capsicle,” he drawled lazily.  “You know it’s just a power play, right, making us cool our heels while he’s off having a coffee break or something?”

 

Bruce had no idea what Steve might have said in return, because Nick Fury chose that moment to stride into the room, Maria Hill right behind him, his scowl forbidding as he stalked to the head of the table, turning around to glare at them, his coat flaring dramatically out behind him.  Tony scoffed under his breath, Steve straightened into alertness, Natasha shifted only slightly, and Clint took his feet off the table, raising his eyebrows insolently at their leader.

 

“I don’t have time to mess around today,” Fury growled, “so I’m going to make this quick.  As of 4:30 yesterday afternoon, an army general by the name of Thaddeus Ross was found dead.  Cause of death remains unknown, but whatever it was, it killed him behind locked doors on a secure military base.  Now…does anybody want to venture a guess as to why you all are here?”

 

Tony was the first to speak up.  “Seriously?” he asked in disbelief, his feet hitting the ground with a thud.  “You drag us all in here because some asshole of an army general is dead, and you…what? Think one of us did it?” he demanded.  “You said cause of death hasn’t been discovered yet.  Couldn’t he have just died of a heart attack or something?  The geezer was nearly as old as Cap there,” he said, gesturing expansively at the super soldier, who just scowled irritably at him.

 

“I agree, sir,” Steve said next, surprising both Tony and Bruce.  Fury’s glare slid over to him, and Steve met his look earnestly.  “There’s nothing to indicate that any of us might be involved in the murder of a general.  And why would any of us do it, anyhow?” he asked. “Surely none of us had cause to kill him.”  He looked around the suddenly silent table.  “Right?” he asked.

 

Tony’s mouth was tight with fury, and Bruce looked down, curling in on himself as the genius demanded, “You sure about that, Rogers?”

 

Steve just looked confused, and it was Natasha who explained it to him.  “General Ross was in charge of the Hulkbuster Program.”  Bruce noticed the way Tony flinched at the reminder of the weapons he’d created to take down the Hulk, his eyes darkening further with anger and guilt.  Carefully, Bruce reached out to lay a hand on his wrist.  Tony stared blankly at the point of contact for a moment before turning his hand over and linking their fingers together.  Bruce let him, feeling his own body release some of its tension at the tight grip.

 

“Hulkbusters?” Steve asked, obviously confused.  He glanced over at Bruce, who gave him a wry smile.

 

Fury interrupted.  “Yes, Captain Rogers.  Hulkbusters.  Ross wanted to get his hands on the Hulk, and has been tracking him for years.  He’s come close a couple of times, and SHIELD’s run interference,” he admitted, turning his glare to Bruce.  “But now he’s dead, and the army is demanding answers.  Which means that I need to be able to assure them that none of you had anything to do with his death.”

 

Steve shrugged.  “I didn’t even know who he was,” he said, his mouth pressed into a tight line.  “Though I don’t know that he didn’t deserve it, if somebody did kill him.”  Bruce looked up at the Captain in surprise, and Steve met his gaze with serious eyes.  He meant it, Bruce was surprised to realize.  Even knowing that General Ross might have been murdered by one of them, he was willing to consider that the other man might have had it coming to him.

 

Clint shrugged.  “You know it couldn’t have been me or Nat,” he pointed out.  “You had us running around chasing down an international terrorist cell, remember?  Not exactly a lot of time to go chasing after an army general who was still on his own base.”  Natasha nodded her agreement.

 

Fury turned his gimlet gaze to the two of them.  “Thor is off-world, and an alien, so if he did it, I’m not going to argue,” he said.  “But chances of that are astronomical.  And he has no more reason to want Ross dead than the Captain over here,” he said.  “Now, do you want to tell me what you two were doing last night?” he demanded.

 

Tony grinned fiercely, baring his teeth at the Director.  “Like you don’t know,” he retorted. “You’ve got at least three plants in SI that I know of.”  Fury didn’t flinch, but Bruce turned to stare at Tony in surprise.  The billionaire waved him off with his free hand.  “Don’t worry, they’re in low-level positions and not allowed anywhere near the private areas of Stark Tower, much less the labs.”  That was not as reassuring as Tony had probably assumed it would be.  “And to answer the other question, Bruce was with me.  We’re working on…well, it’s not important what we’re working on,” he sniffed.  “But we were in the lab all night.”

 

Tony stood.  “Now, if there isn’t anything else?” he asked archly.  Fury narrowed his one good eye their way before growling at them to get out.  Tony smiled, slipping on his signature shades as he turned to stride out the door, Bruce standing to follow closely behind him, a small part of him still worried that they might decide to keep him here.

 

Just before they left, Tony tossed back over his shoulder.  “Oh, and if you guys ever want to stop living in the SHIELD barracks, look me up. I’ve got room.”  And it was true; he had dedicated entire floors to be living areas for the rest of the Avengers, should they ever decide they wanted to take him up on the offer.

 

As they left, heading for the Quinjet that would take them back to the Tower, Bruce watched his friend carefully.  Tony was moving quickly, his body tense, but that could just be leftover anger, or a shared eagerness to get off the Helicarrier and back to the veritable fortress that was Stark Tower.  It could also be hiding something more sinister, and Bruce scolded himself for even thinking something like that about his friend.  Sure, Tony had promised him when he’d moved in that the army would never get their hands on him, and that he’d protect him no matter what, but surely that didn’t mean that he’d stoop to outright murder, right?

 

Tony glanced over at him as they settled into the Quinjet, their pilot getting them into the air.  “What’s up, Bruce?” he asked quietly, his voice intent.

 

Bruce looked up at him, biting nervously down on his lower lip.  He shook his head, his eyes dropping again as he removed his glasses, rubbing at them nervously with the hem of his shirt.  “It’s nothing, Tony.  I’m just…relieved, I guess,” he decided, choosing the safer path of conversation.  “With General Ross dead, maybe the army will stop chasing me.” 

 

It was a pipe dream, he knew – Ross hadn’t been the only one involved in the project, or the only one who knew that the Hulk was Bruce Banner – but the man had definitely been the most vocal about capturing him, branding the Hulk as a monster that needed to be put down.  Still, with him dead, maybe it would be a while before the army started looking for him again.

 

Tony sighed in frustration.  “That’s not what you were going to say,” he huffed, pulling off his sunglasses to meet Bruce’s hesitant gaze.  “Just ask already,” he insisted.

 

Bruce licked his lips and swallowed nervously.  Bolstering his courage, he met Tony’s eyes.  “Did you kill General Ross?” he asked.

 

Tony stared back at him steadily.  “No,” he replied after a moment, and Bruce slumped back in relief, closing his eyes.  That’s all he’d wanted to hear.

 

“Okay,” he said, more than happy to let it go.  Ross was dead, Tony hadn’t killed him, and that was all he really needed to know.

 

Tony chuckled quietly.  “That’s it?  Just ‘okay’?” he asked teasingly.

 

Bruce smiled with his eyes still closed, nodding.  “That’s it,” he agreed softly.

 

Tony settled back with a curious hum, and the two men stayed that way, in companionable silence, until the Quinjet landed on the landing at Stark Tower.  The further they got from the Helicarrier, the more Bruce relaxed, until he was almost looking forward to getting a shower, food, and some more time in the lab.  What they had been working on – and what Tony hadn’t wanted Fury to know – was a way to separate the Avengers from SHIELD entirely, to make the team its own entity. 

 

To do that, not only would they need a base and a source of funding – Stark Tower and Tony himself, respectively – but they’d need all new gear and weaponry, so that SHIELD couldn’t say that the Avengers owed them anything, or were using their substandard gear.  Steve’s shield was actually the property of Howard Stark, and Tony already had his people in legal working on making sure they could make the break without leaving any loopholes that could be exploited by SHIELD.

 

When Fury had summoned them, they had been working on a new material for the Avengers uniforms.  Tony planned to present the new uniforms to the team once they were finished, regardless of whether or not they chose to remain under SHIELD’s purview.  In his own way, Tony was showing that he cared by doing what he was best at – inventing.  His team would be as safe as he could make them outside of the Tower, he’d see to that much, at least.

 

Wandering into the Tower, Bruce was brought up short the tall, dark-skinned soldier standing in the middle of Tony’s living room, hands crossed over his arms as he glared at the man behind Bruce.  “We need to talk, Tony. Now,” he insisted.

 

Tony grinned brightly at him.  “Ah, Honey Bear, it’s good to see you, too!  How’d that fiasco over in Iraq turn out?” he asked, tossing his sunglasses to a table and strolling over to the bar to fix himself a drink.

 

“Since you obviously knew about the mission – which you don’t have clearance for, by the way – you know exactly how it went,” Rhodey – because that’s who this had to be, given his familiarity with Tony – replied.  “But that’s not why I’m here, and you know it,” he frowned heavily over at his friend, refusing to be deterred.

 

Tony shrugged dismissively.  “The army needs to keep better track of its security,” he said bluntly.  “You’d think they were still using Hammer Tech, it’s that bad.”  He seemed genuinely grumpy, and Bruce was starting to worry, his eyes darting between the two men.  He felt almost as if there was a whole separate conversation going on between them, but he wasn’t well-versed enough in their history to puzzle it out.  He hadn’t seen Colonel Rhodes at all, having only briefly heard of him when Tony had told him about the debacle with Killian and the Mandarin.

 

“Uh, I’ll just go and leave you two to talk, all right?” he ventured quietly, flinching back as two pairs of eyes turned him, having apparently forgotten that he was even in the room.  He edged toward the stairs, deciding that they’d be safer than the elevator right now, in case he needed to run.

 

Dark eyes narrowed at him for a brief moment before flickering to Tony. “This him?” he demanded.  “The guy that Ross was after?”  Bruce froze where he stood, dread pooling in his stomach.  Was this man – a long-time friend of Tony’s – part of the group that was after the Hulk, too?

 

Tony glared at the other man, but his words were for Bruce.  “Brucie babe, Rhodey and I need to have a grown-up talk.  Meet me in the lab later?” he asked, a dark undertone in his voice.

 

Bruce nodded warily in agreement.  “Yeah, sure, Tony,” he murmured, and reached for the door to the stairway, aware that both men were watching him as he left.  The door shut behind them, and Bruce took a moment to catch his breath before starting down the stairs, heading for his own floor, his legs shaky as if he’d just run a marathon – or transformed back from the other guy.

 

Once he was relatively certain that he wouldn’t topple down the stairs, Bruce hurried to his floor, relieved when he closed the door behind him, knowing that it would be locked from all intruders, barring Tony, who was actually surprisingly good about at least having JARVIS warn Bruce when he was coming down.  Or maybe it was just a standing order, Bruce thought wryly, moving into the kitchen and fixing himself a cup of tea.

 

In a matter of minutes, Bruce was ensconced in a thick afghan on the couch, his hands wrapped around a mug of gently steaming tea as he stared blankly ahead, torn between exhaustion and the desperate need to know what Tony and the Colonel were talking about.  Bruce remembered, vaguely, that Rhodes had a suit of armor.  Tony called it War Machine, though the army – and by extension, the media – called it the Iron Patriot.  It had been a bit of a gamble to get the army off his back by giving them one of his suits, and a bit of a fuck you, too, by making it so that only Rhodey could pilot the damn thing.

 

Curiosity won out, and feeling vaguely guilty, Bruce called out.  “JARVIS?”

 

 _“Yes, Doctor Banner,”_ the AI replied serenely.  _“What can I do for you?”_

 

Bruce bit his lower lip, debating for another moment before giving in with a sigh.  “Could you maybe let me hear what’s going on between Tony and Colonel Rhodes?”  He felt guilty for even asking, like he was doing something forbidden, but the nagging sense of worry wouldn’t leave him, and he decided that it would be better to apologize if it turned out to be nothing than it would be to live with not knowing.

 

There was a short pause, and then JARVIS answered carefully.  _“It is within my ability to do so, Doctor Banner,”_ he acknowledged, _“and sir has not restricted you from seeing, but are you certain that you wish to know?”_

 

The fact that the AI felt the need to ask made something sick swirl in Bruce’s stomach, and he nodded, even less sure than before.  “Not really,” he admitted, “but I need to.”

 

Without any further commentary, angry voices rose around Bruce.  “I don’t care, Tony! You can’t do crap like that!  You know you can’t!”

 

Tony’s snort came through crystal clear.  “The hell I can’t,” he snarled.  “The son of a bitch was a goddamn psychopath with an obsession the size of fucking New York, and a massive hard-on for the Hulk.  He got exactly what was coming to him!”

 

“Off!” Bruce gasped out, his hands clenching dangerously tightly around the mug as he shook.  “JARVIS, turn it off!”  The sounds of Tony’s and Rhodey’s argument faded to merciful silence and Bruce closed his eyes, swallowing heavily.  When he opened them, he stared at the carpet through a veil of moisture, fear and sorrow twisting into a Gordian knot inside him.  “He said he didn’t do it,” he murmured, and his voice was pathetically plaintive, begging for somebody to make sense of what he’d just heard.  “He lied to me.”  And that hurt more, perhaps, than the knowledge that Tony had actually had something to do with Ross’s death.

 

 _“Sir did not kill General Ross,”_ JARVIS spoke up after a moment, not even pretending ignorance.

 

Bruce shook his head.  “But he knows who did.”  It wasn’t a question.

 

JARVIS was silent for several seconds, before he answered reluctantly, _“Yes.”_

Bruce swallowed, setting down his cup of tea carefully before pulling his knees up to his chest under the afghan, wrapping his arms around himself and resting his chin on his legs.  “JARVIS, lock down this floor,” he ordered.  “Not even Tony is allowed in.  Understood?”

 

JARVIS didn’t ask him if he was sure, this time.  Instead, he just dimmed the lights, the windows turning opaque as the entire floor went into lockdown mode.   Nobody would be allowed to enter or leave without overriding the codes.  Bruce needed some time to think, and he couldn’t do that if he had to worry about confronting Tony before he was ready.  And running away wouldn’t solve his problems, as much as he wished it would.  It might make it easier, for a while, but Bruce knew that it would trouble him to leave now far more than it ever had before.  Before, nobody had cared where he went or what happened to him, except for Betty.

 

Oh, god, Betty.  How was he supposed to tell her what had happened to her father?  “I’m sorry your father is dead, but I can assure you that Tony did it with my safety in mind?”  Bruce groaned into his arms; there was no way Betty would just accept that.  Despite the fact that Bruce hadn’t seen the strong-willed woman for the past five years, it didn’t mean he was just going to keep quiet about her father’s death, did it?

 

He sighed in frustration as he reluctantly acknowledged that it just might.

 

Further contemplation was interrupted by JARVIS’s careful tone.  _“Doctor Banner, sir would like to know what’s wrong, and if there’s anything he can do to help.”_

 

Bruce released a sobbing hiccup.  “I think he’s done enough, don’t you?” he demanded, the words harsh in his throat.  He swallowed roughly, realizing that he was parched. A quick glance at the clock on the far wall explained it; he’d been sitting here for nearly three hours, having a meltdown.  And the worst part was that he was still no closer to figuring out what to do than he had been before.

 

JARVIS must have relayed his words to Tony, because the next thing Bruce knew, the other man’s voice was being filtered into the room.  “Bruce?  Okay, look, I know it sounds bad, especially with Fury and the whole Ross being dead thing.  But at least let me explain.  Please?”  Tony sounded absolutely miserable, and the realization made a hot, crawling anger claw at Bruce’s throat.  Under his skin, the Hulk stirred, aroused by his anger, pressing forward.

 

Bruce closed his eyes, trying to calm himself.  He couldn’t let the Hulk out right now, not here.

 

 _And why not?_ An insidious voice whispered inside his head _.  Ross is dead.  Tony killed him.  Or had him killed.  You have a right to be angry.  You thought he was your friend. He betrayed you._

Bruce bit his lower lip hard enough that it split open, bleeding sluggishly and making him flinch back from the sharp, unexpected pain.  The voice in his head wasn’t the Hulk.  They were his own thoughts, and Bruce turned a contemplative gaze towards the door.  Tony was still talking, but Bruce had tuned him out, not wanting to hear it.

 

Making a snap decision, Bruce turned away from the door and headed straight for the windows, transforming as he went.  A moment later, the Hulk roared to the skies as he leapt, crashing through the glass windows and landing heavily on the closest building, jumping away before the roof caved in under the impact.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Bruce groaned, his eyes gritty and sore and his muscles aching as he struggled into a sitting position.  Opening bleary eyes - he'd lost his glasses, of course - he looked around himself, sighing when he realized that he had absolutely no idea where he was.  The Hulk had kept true to his general preferences, though, once Bruce had allowed him to take the reigns.  He was surrounded by trees, and could hear water close by.  Whether that water was safe for human consumption was another matter, though he was unlikely to get sick even if it wasn't.

 

Hulk shifted uneasily under his skin, his growl vibrating inside Bruce's head and making him wince, his hands coming up to press shaking fingers against his temples.  The Hulk should be asleep now, exhausted from his trip, but instead he was tense, alert.  Bruce got a vague impression of soldiers and guns and tanks, and realized that Hulk had presumed they were running away from the army, that they were under attack.  No wonder he'd just taken off running, heading more or less in a straight line, heedless of structural damage.

 

Bruce forced his wandering mind to focus, trying to figure out where they were and what they'd done.  He didn't get any impressions of screams or frightened faces or blood, so he was pretty sure they hadn't attacked anybody.

 

With a quiet sigh of relief, Bruce forced himself to his feet, biting back a groan as his joints cracked and twinged.  He realized that he was still covered from the waist down, and looked down with a small frown.  The pants were rather unremarkable, simple and black, but he now realized that they were much more than they seemed.  He really should have known, he mused, since Tony had insisted that he wear them under his clothes whenever possible.  They were lightweight enough that even in warmer temperatures, they wouldn't be unduly uncomfortable.

 

Tony Stark had made him Hulk pants.  And had killed Ross - or ordered him killed - to protect him.  The sheer absurdity of the thoughts running through his head right now made his lips twitch in reluctant amusement, and he sighed as he stumbled over some roots. And then promptly stepped into a shallow running creek.  The water was bubbling and sliding over rocks in a steady downward stream, uncaring of the confused man standing at its edge.

 

Backing up onto the shore line, Bruce knelt down and scooped some water in his hands, flicking his tongue out to taste it.  It was cold and fresh, though it tasted a bit of silt and rock, and Bruce took several sips before sitting back and deciding his next step.  Now that he thought back on his actions, he felt a familiar curl of shame, using Hulk to run away like that.  Not to mention that he had destroyed a part of Tony's tower on the way out.

 

Still, he couldn't believe that Tony had killed General Ross.  The man was hell-bent on capturing the Hulk to experiment on him, but Bruce could take care of himself. He had done so for years without killing the man, though a few of Ross's soldiers had gotten too close to the Hulk and been killed in the process.  But running out on Tony without even hearing him out wasn't really acceptable, either.

 

Inside him, the Hulk was slowly settling down, seeming to catch on to the fact that Bruce wasn't particularly worried about anybody giving chase.  "I have to go apologize," he mumbled out loud to himself.  Hulk just grumbled inside of him before fading even more - the Hulk's version of sleeping.

 

With a sigh, Bruce stood up and looked around himself, debating which way was most likely to lead him to a major roadway.  He was pretty sure he was still in the United States, at least, but beyond that, he didn't have a clue.  Looking up didn't help him, either - it was mid-day, and the sun was directly above him.  He snorted to himself, then turned to his right and headed off, following the stream and hoping it would actually lead somewhere.  If not, he'd at least be near a water source, and once the sun started to set, he could reorient himself.

 

It took him surprisingly less time to work his way out of the forest than he would have guessed, once he started climbing a large weed and rock covered hill.  He hesitated in the protective shadow of the trees, looking out across the large open grassy area.  He didn’t so much as twitch when the man a few trees over spoke up.

 

“Nice place you picked here,” Tony murmured from where he was leaning against a large maple, his legs crossed at the ankles and his hands pinned behind him against the tree.  “I would’ve thought you’d run further,” he mused.

 

Bruce snorted.  “I didn’t really have a say in it,” he admitted.  “The other guy apparently didn’t feel up to going very far.”  He had found himself in Harriman State Park in New York, only about thirty miles from New York City.  He hadn’t been here before, which is why he hadn’t recognized it, but the large posted sign was sort of hard to miss, and he had at least heard of this place before. It was one of the largest forested parks on the East Coast.

 

Tony shrugged, tucking one hand in his pocket and lifting up a small duffel bag with the other as he carefully approached. Bruce just eyed him wearily, but didn’t say anything, accepting the bag with a murmured thanks and opening it to peer inside.  He pulled out the shirt and a bottle of water, slipping the shirt over his head before drinking half of the water.

 

While he drank, settling himself at the base of the tree – there was really no point in running, and Hulk wasn’t interested in going anywhere – Tony talked about inconsequential things, like the fact that the park had more than thirty lakes on it, or the type of trees that grew here.  Nothing important, nothing that couldn’t be overheard.  Bruce just let the sounds wash over him, his head tipped back against the tree behind him as he stared up at the New York sky.

 

At last, he gathered enough energy to stand.  Immediately, Tony was next to him, leading him away from the hill.  It took nearly twenty minutes to reach the other man’s car, and Bruce climbed into the passenger’s seat without a word.  It was one of Tony’s convertibles, so the wind made talking nearly impossible anyhow.

 

The moment they were back in the Tower – in Tony’s Penthouse, since Bruce’s floor currently had busted windows – Bruce turned to face the other man, crossing his arms over his chest.  Just because the Hulk hadn’t seen the need to run very far didn’t mean that the billionaire was off the hook.  “Explain,” he said shortly.

 

Tony ran a hand roughly through his hair, glancing longingly at the bar before sighing and dropping bonelessly onto a chair.  Bruce stayed standing, his gaze unwavering as he waited.

 

“Look, I know that you were keeping track of Ross’s movements through the media,” Tony started.  “I had JARVIS watching him through SHIELD’s files, as well as the army’s.  It was just business as usual – he threatened, I set my lawyers on him or threatened him with an Asgardian god with diplomatic immunity – and that was that.  But about three weeks ago, he made a visit to a very special prisoner.”

 

Bruce didn’t need Tony to tell him; he could see it in the other man’s eyes.  “Blonsky,” he said shortly.  Tony grimaced, but nodded – apparently, Blonsky had been a thorn in his side even before he had started chasing after Bruce.  Bruce didn’t know the history between the two men, and now wasn’t the time to ask.  “And? He visited the Abomination, and you decided he needed to be killed?” he pushed.

 

Tony scowled.  “I didn’t order him killed!” he snapped back.  Bruce just stared back, unimpressed, and he huffed in frustration before slumping further into his seat.  “Look,” he said, scrubbing his hands over his face in frustration, “I called in a few favors, had some people look into what he was doing visiting with Blonsky.  I might have suggested that they could handle the matter however they saw fit, but I didn’t actually expect them to kill him.  I probably should have known better,” he muttered glumly.

 

With another soft sigh, Tony straightened up and met Bruce’s eyes.  “He was planning on releasing the Abomination in exchange for Blonsky taking you on.  Again.”

 

The idea slowly settled into Bruce with dawning realization.  He stared at Tony, horrified.  “Last time we fought, we destroyed most of Harlem!” he blurted out.  “What the hell was he going to do? Lure me away? Or just have Blonsky come here, to the middle of Manhattan?”

 

Tony smiled unhappily.  “Exactly,” he agreed.  “So that happened, then he winds up dead, which is sort of my fault if you look at it a certain way, and we were called to explain to Nick Fury.”  He shrugged, then fell silent, for once not letting his mouth run away with him, giving Bruce time to sort his thoughts out.  “I’m not going to apologize for his death, though,” he said seriously.

 

Bruce shook his head with a frown.  “I didn’t suppose you would,” he admitted.  But something wasn’t adding up, and he frowned as he recalled the conversation he’d overheard earlier.  “So when Rhodey was yelling at you earlier,” he started, not the least bit ashamed to admit he’d been eavesdropping, “what was he yelling at you for?”

 

This time, Tony’s grin was real and unrestrained, his eyes lighting up with amusement.  “Oh, I might’ve sent Ross a little present, courtesy of Stark Industries.  It would have wiped out every file he had about you and the Hulk.  Rhodey was pissed because the virus might’ve accidentally-on-purpose wiped out all the data the army had regarding the Iron Man armors as well,” he admitted sheepishly.

 

Bruce felt himself relaxing despite his earlier anger.  “And your reply to him?” he asked.

 

Tony frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as he cast about his memory for the moment Bruce was talking about.  “JARVIS?” he asked at last. 

 

Tony’s angry words poured into the room a moment later.  _“The hell I can’t!  The son of a bitch was a goddamn psychopath with an obsession the size of fucking New York, and a massive hard-on for the Hulk.  He got exactly what was coming to him!”_

 

“Oh! You heard that part of the argument!” Tony exclaimed, his eyes wide and his expression vaguely guilty.  “I thought you heard the part about Ross, so I didn’t get why you were so pissed.  I figured you probably would’ve been helping me if you’d been around at the time, but you were at that conference in Oklahoma.”  Bruce just waited, and Tony gave up after about thirty seconds.

 

“Fine,” he huffed.  “We were talking about Blonsky.  I might have messed around with a few files and orders and had him transferred into SHIELD’s custody,” he admitted, not sounding the least bit sorry.  “Rhodey was pissed at me for overriding the army’s security.”

 

Bruce stared at him.  “Why SHIELD?” he asked slowly, not seeing the connection.

 

Tony shrugged.  “As a peace offering?” he tried.  “Hey, I wanted him shipped to Guantanamo,” he said pointedly, “but that’s a bit much, don’t you think?”  Bruce nodded in agreement; both of them had issues with torture, regardless of the reasoning behind it, and if Tony _had_ ignored his own misgivings and gotten Blonsky sent down there, Bruce probably wouldn’t have forgiven him.

 

Bruce shook his head.  “Does Fury know that you put the Abomination in their custody?” he asked.

 

Tony nodded.  “Yeah, I made sure the paperwork was sorted and everything,” he added.  The he frowned.  “Of course, that’s probably why he thought I might have something to do with Ross’s death,” he realized.

 

“He wouldn’t be wrong,” Bruce pointed out archly.  Tony just shook his head, not concerned about the ramifications, and Bruce sighed in exasperation. “Tony, you can’t just ignore this!” he tried.  “And what happens when whoever takes his place comes after the Hulk?  Will you kill them, too?”

 

Dark eyes met his seriously, Tony’s reply completely honest when he spoke.  “If the army, or SHIELD, or fucking Hydra – anybody at all – comes after you, they’ll have to go through me.  And if that means that some people die, then so be it.  They can’t have you, and it’s about time they realized that.”

 

Bruce didn’t know whether to be angry or relieved at the other man’s conviction.  Swallowing, he managed to croak out, “Why?  Why do you go through this much trouble?  If you’re convicted of murder, Tony, they’ll lock you up!”

 

Tony scoffed, holding up his fingers as he ticked off his counterarguments.  “One, they won’t lock me up. They need Iron Man, and I am Iron Man.  Two, you’re important to me.  A hell of a lot more important than some asshole of a general, or the idiots at SHIELD.  I don’t need them, and you don’t, either.  Not anymore.  Three, the Hulk isn’t a goddamn experiment!  He’s a person, too.  A huge, green, temper-tantrum throwing person who could smash me into a pancake, but still a person.  Anybody who can’t see that doesn’t deserve to lay a finger on the big guy, or you.  And four…you’re the only person who speaks my language.  Without you, I’d be left with people like Rogers and Hammer.”

 

Bruce almost gave in and smiled at the distaste in Tony’s voice.  Instead, he school his expression into one of stern disappointment, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting patiently for Tony to stop beating around the bush.

 

Brown eyes looked at him for a moment before darting away.  Tony shifted uneasily on his feet, his own arms crossing in front of his chest as he unconsciously mimicked Bruce’s pose.  Whatever the underlying reason for his actions was, Tony didn’t want to say it.

 

“Tony,” Bruce warned.  “Tell me the real reason, or I’ll leave.”  Tony’s head snapped up as the genius stared at him with big, hurt eyes.  Bruce refused to let himself give in to the silent plea. “I mean it, Tony.  I can’t stay here in good conscience, knowing that you’re having people killed to protect me.  So tell me what you were thinking when you had your contacts spy on Ross."  He didn’t even try to hide the distaste in his own tone.

 

Tony wavered for a moment, and Bruce was just about to turn around and leave to go start packing when he stumbled forward a few steps, pushing right up into Bruce’s personal space.  Dark eyes met his own for a moment, looking for something, obviously uncertain about whatever it was that he was searching for.

 

“I told you the real reason,” he breathed, his eyes earnest.  “You’re important to me.”  Bruce frowned, and Tony matched it, taking a step back and glaring at the wall behind Bruce’s shoulder.  “Fine, it’s because I sort of like you, as in really like you, and I want you to stay here forever and be mine, and I’m a possessive bastard. I don’t like people taking my stuff, and the army wanted to take you away, and that’s not okay.  So I asked some people to maybe help me out a bit, and they pointed out that I might, maybe, possibly, be in love with you.”

 

With a huff, Tony wound down, his cheeks flushing lightly but his jaw clenching in a way that Bruce was familiar with; the man was preparing to be rejected, was bracing himself for it.  He was probably planning on waiting for Bruce to let him down easy and then laughing it off with a stupid joke or something.

 

Unfortunately for him, that was the furthest thing from Bruce’s mind.  Suddenly things made a lot more sense, falling into place.  Tony hadn’t gone after Ross to protect Hulk; he had gone after Ross to protect _Bruce_.  Because he loved him.  Because he didn’t want Bruce to feel that he had to run.  Because he wanted to protect Bruce, in whatever way he was allowed.  Even if he had foreseen what would happen to Ross when he sent people in to ‘observe’ the General, he probably wouldn’t have done anything differently, except maybe try to keep Bruce from finding out.

 

And he hadn’t done that, Bruce now realized.  Tony could have easily ordered JARVIS to keep the conversation between him and Rhodey private, but he hadn’t.  He had allowed Bruce to make his own decision on whether or not he wanted to know what had happened, and had trusted Bruce to let him explain if necessary.  And Bruce had thrown that gesture of goodwill right back into his friend’s face.

 

“I’m sorry,” Bruce breathed, knowing even as he said them that the words weren’t enough.  But he meant them sincerely, and Tony’s eyes flicked to meet his for a moment before darting away.  This time, it was Bruce who stepped closer.  “I’m glad that he’s dead,” he admitted guiltily.  “I feel sorry for Betty, but I can’t deny that knowing that Ross is dead is,” he cast about for the proper word for a moment before setting on, “good.  It’s good. It means a lot to me, to know that you’d go that far for me.””

 

“You sure about that?” Tony asked skeptically.  “Because you seemed pretty pissed, big guy.  I mean, you redecorated your floor,” he pointed out.

 

Bruce flushed at the reminder.  “I know, and I’m sorry.  I’ll help pay for repairs or whatever,” he promised, but Tony just waved it off with a roll of his eyes.  No doubt he’d already ordered JARVIS to call in a repair crew.

 

“That’s not important right now,” Tony insisted.

 

Bruce nodded.  “I know," he agreed.  “But this is.”

 

Very carefully, hoping like hell he wasn’t misjudging this, Bruce leaned forward, watching Tony’s expression change from concerned to surprised to wary to something indescribable, until at last, Bruce brushed his mouth across Tony’s.   He didn’t linger, just a chaste touch of his lips against the other man’s, then he pulled back to a safe distance.  “Thank you,” he murmured, stepping back further, putting the distance between them back to ‘just friends’.

 

Tony blinked, his hand moving unconsciously to his lips as he pressed his fingers to them in imitation.  “Bruce?” he asked.

 

The scientist smiled affectionately at the other man.  “We still need to have a long discussion about what is and isn’t okay when it comes to protecting each other, but I have to admit that I’m flattered. I’ve never had somebody want to protect me so badly that they’d risk everything to do it.”

 

Tony shook his head.  “Not what I was asking,” he stated bluntly.  “This kiss.  What was that?”

 

Bruce looked at him innocently.  “It was a kiss, Tony,” he pointed out the obvious, suppressing his grin when Tony huffed in exasperation.  A moment later, Tony’s mouth was pressing insistently against his, and Bruce opened up, letting Tony in with a groan.  The billionaire growled, his hands scrabbling at Bruce’s sides before finally settling on either side of his waist, indulging himself in their kiss.

 

Tony didn’t seem interested in pulling back, and probably would have tried to drag Bruce off to the bedroom – which would have required a very uncomfortable discussion about the Hulk and excitement – but a throat clearing in the doorway interrupted.  Tony broke it off with a scowl, turning to face the intruder while Bruce buried his face in his hands.

 

“It’s about damn time,” Clint declared, his arms across his chest and his legs crossed at the ankles as he leaned against the doorway to the living room.  Natasha leaned into him, lounging across his shoulders.  Behind them, Steve was looking anywhere but at the two of them, his face bright red.

 

Bruce blinked at them dumbly.  “What are you all doing here?” he asked at last.  Not that he didn’t know that Tony had invited them to come stay in the Tower, but he hadn’t been expecting capitulation quite this quickly.  Just that morning, they had been dragged into SHIELD to stand accused of killing a General, and now they were all here, looking ready to move in immediately.

 

Tony grinned at them.  “You’re all here, great!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands.  “Come on, I’ll show you to your floors.”  He led the way out of the room, leaving Bruce standing in the middle of the floor, wondering what was going on.  How was this his life now?

 

His disbelief must have been showing on his face, because Steve lingered behind, watching him.  “Bruce?” he asked gently, and the use of his first name startled Bruce out of his trance.

 

“Oh! Yes, Captain?” he asked, not sure how to address the super soldier.

 

Steve smiled.  “Just Steve is fine,” he offered.  Bruce nodded, pushing his glasses further up his nose, straightening them from where they’d been knocked askew by an over-enthusiastic Tony. 

 

Steve stepped further into the room, watching him intently, and Bruce tipped his head.  “Can I help you with something? I’m sure JARVIS can take you to whichever floor Tony and the others are on,” he suggested.

 

Steve shook his head.  “No, it’s fine. I’ve already seen my floor,” he dismissed.  “I was just bringing Clint and Natasha in.”  Bruce frowned at him, confused, and Steve’s face took on a slightly guilty expression.  “Ah, Tony called when you left,” he admitted.  “I was nearby, so I came over to help search.  Not that he needed my help,” he admitted ruefully.

 

Steve moved forward again, staying just far enough back that Bruce didn’t have to strain his neck to look up at him.  He sighed.  “Look, I know we might’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” he started, “but I’d like to try and change that, if you’ll let me.”  His gaze was earnest and straightforward as he met Bruce’s eyes, and the physicist had a sudden jolt of realization.

 

“You were involved, too, weren’t you?” he asked, the implications slowly setting in.  Steve frowned at him in confusion, and he clarified.  “Ross.  You had something to do with it, too.”

 

He couldn’t say why he was so sure all of a sudden, but Steve didn’t deny it.  Instead, he sighed, running a hand through his hair before meeting Bruce’s eyes determinedly.  “Yes,” he confirmed, his tone firm and unashamed.  “I paid a visit to Ross’s base in the guise of doing tours.  I’d been to several others before, so there was no reason for suspicion.”

 

Bruce nodded; he remembered Fury asking that Steve go around to the military bases to talk to the soldiers and commanders as Captain America.  A morale boost, he’d called it, though Bruce had wondered at the time if it wasn’t just an excuse to get eyes and ears into the offices of certain people that SHIELD wanted to keep an eye on.

 

Steve shrugged, continuing.  “Ross came to meet me personally.”  Bruce smiled at the distaste in Steve’s voice; apparently the super soldier hadn’t cared for the man, either.  “He seemed very interested.”

 

“In the Hulk?” Bruce asked.

 

Steve shook his head.  “Erskine’s formula and Stark’s – Howard’s – chamber,” he said.  Bruce paled; of course Ross would be interested in the only successful result of the super serum.  Fury had been a fool to send Steve in alone, even if he was Captain America.  That wasn’t any protection against a man as determined as Thaddeus Ross.

 

“Tony came to retrieve me,” Steve murmured softly, his eyes sympathetic as he watched Bruce’s reaction.  “Nothing happened, of course, but after we got back, he explained about Ross, about his connection to you.”  His hands fisted impotently at his sides, as if he wished Ross was here in front of him so he could punch him.  “He told me about Blonsky, and about how the Hulk was created when the army tried to recreate the super soldier serum.”  His jaw twitched as his eyes darkened with helpless, unspent rage.

 

Bruce reached out carefully, his hands wrapping lightly around Steve’s fists.  After a moment, the soldier loosed his clenched fists, his shoulders and jaw relaxing.  “Then what?” Bruce asked quietly, needing to hear this, even if it hurt.

 

Steve shrugged.  “Then nothing,” he replied.  “I didn’t go back to the base, and Ross didn’t try anything.  But somehow, Clint and Natasha figured out what was going on and confronted Tony about it.”

 

Bruce’s eyes widened.  “They killed Ross,” he breathed.

 

Steve looked at him oddly, but then shrugged.  “Maybe,” he admitted.  “They won’t say one way or the other, and I’m not going to pry.  He’s dead, and knowing who did it won’t change anything.  Not for us,” he stated.

 

Bruce saw where Steve was coming from, and he felt his shoulders relax; he hadn’t even realized that he’d still been tense.  But Steve was right; Ross was dead, and regardless of who killed him, or why, it was over and done with.  The man would never be back to bother him or Steve again.

 

 _“Doctor Banner. Captain Rogers.  Sir would like to know if you two plan to join him and Agents Barton and Romanov on the common floor.”_   JARVIS’s cultured tone interrupted the silence that had fallen, and Bruce smiled, watching Steve match his grin.  Together, the two men headed for the elevator and their friends.

 

“Yeah, JARVIS.  We’re coming.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Harriman State Park image](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/0/0d/Harriman_state_park.jpg): 
> 
> So this ended up being a lot lighter and fluffier than the requester probably intended, but I'm not sorry for the way it turned out.


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